It’s the start. The kickoff, and we’re back to square one. I brush my teeth, like any other day, but it isn’t. I look in the mirror, and give a chuckle, heartily dismissing that voice. C’mon! It’s just New Year’s resolutions. You’ve been a pretty decent person; now, don’t be ridiculous! You’ve got better things to do.

Replacing my toothbrush in its usual rack, I hesitate. Just for good measure, I floss my teeth. Stepping out of the bathroom, I make a mental note of the resolutions I’ve just thought of. They’ll be No. 3 to 8 on my list.

It’s our last chance to see. Last chance, to make a difference. Last chance, to make it work. Last chance. Make or break. Do or do not, there is no try. Running helter-skelter, you and I see it in each others eyes. It’s going to be one hell of a ride. Buckle up, young’uns; you don’t want to get blown out the windows. Or chewed by a giraffe. Remember: you are NOT a piece of food, and if you think you are, you are most definitely NOT the leftovers. We’ve come this far, and I don’t see why can’t you.

I thought we’d die the moment we heard the rhyme. We didn’t. I thought they’d run away from us. They didn’t. I thought it’d collapse. It didn’t. I thought we’d leave together. We didn’t. I thought he’d stay, just to herd the rest off. He didn’t. I thought you’d know better. You didn’t. I thought we’d talk about it. We didn’t. I thought I’d sleep. I didn’t. I thought we’d be the earliest. We weren’t. I thought you’d understand. You didn’t. I thought I could hold on to you, depend on you for support. I couldn’t.

It just didn’t happen.

It’s all taking shape now. Growing, with a life of it’s own. Like a newborn lamb, it’s taken its first few shaky steps, and now it’s learning to frisk around. Triumphant, I laugh myself silly just thinking about it. We’ve come too far – there’s no turning back. You know? It’s heart-stopping when you’re up there; you shiver with the excitement when you sense the high strung delirium everyone is in, and impulse tells you to join the mob. It’s all taking shape now, and too soon it’ll grow wings and take flight. Fly away, but not just yet. Not yet.

Things don’t always go the way we want them to, but this is just off tangent. This turned out to be a hundred times harder than I thought it’d be. Nobody said it was easy, but no one ever said it was gonna be so hard. Human connection never seemed so distant. Speaking, it seems, doesn’t seem to work. Perhaps it’s just me, or maybe it’s your apathetic indifference, or it might’ve been just the weather… I’m breaking away. It’s you and me, and all of the people. If you can’t even begin to comprehend that, you’ve just lost me.

The weekend never took so long to arrive. A brief respite, if only for awhile, away from the torrent of catastrophes. Rain down, they did, in all forms of shapes and sizes (though not as sweet) all week long. Thank God for the sunshine – it never felt better. There’s something in the air that made all the things that have been weighing me down feel much lighter. I’m done with second guessing – I’m all ready to kick back and let the show get on. It’s time for us to step up; it’s time for us to shine. It’s our time.

It ends tonight.

The late nights in school, the paint-splattered people. The sea of people in white, and then the comforting scatter of those in black. The grandiose banners, spotlights, and then the glitzy costumes. The songs we sing; the cheers we shout even with our hoarse voices. The flurry of activity; the laughter and the tears. The crazy unspoken camaraderie, the bridges we’ve built. The blaze of fire, and the moments that take our breath away. I’d rather we burn brightly; illuminate the night. I'd rather burn out the best than let them die as embers.

It ends tonight.

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Trepidation. I could almost hear my heart beating, and I could definitely feel my stomach sink to the bottomless abyss. Just like the Oil Drop. All this seems strangely familiar, and it’s making me sick. This feeling of déjà vu isn’t a good one – and my instincts think likewise. The waiting is making me jumpy. And I wait, till I see you. Every step you take, the intimidation in the air thickens, and I feel suffocated. I see your scorn, worn haughtily on your face. Standing up ruler straight, I maintain my countenance. Truth is, I’m shivering in my shoes.

Sticks and stones can hurt my bones but words will never hurt me.

There. You said it. Like a knife through my heart, you stabbed it there, right in front of me. Hurt my heart, you did, and far more damage. Confused, hurt and maligned, I walk away calmly. Tears, don’t fall. Legs, don’t fail me. I barely see anyone, and keep my mouth resolutely shut, in case any rants or grouses spew out. Verbal diarrhea isn’t pretty.

Control. Those deleterious comments will never hurt me. Control. Nor those disparaging remarks! Control. Oh, the ridicule! I’m in control. I am!

Peering down, I’m convinced I’ll fall to my death. It’s so imminent – frighteningly possible. I tug nervously at the rope, and whisper a desperate prayer that it’ll hold. Drawing in a sharp breath, I shut my eyes, hoping it’ll quell my fears. Whoosh. I open my eyes, and I find myself suspended in mid air. I breathe sigh of relief, and realize that I’ve been holding my breath all this while. A little shaken, I stretch my legs and shout to them down there (they really resemble ants from up here) “Ready!” And down I go. I’ve missed you, ground.

What day is it? And in what month?
This clock never seemed so alive
I can't keep up and I can't back down
I've been losing so much time
Cause it's you and me and all other people with nothing to do
Nothing to lose
And it's you and me and all other people
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you
All of the things that I want to say just aren't coming out right
I'm tripping on words
You've got my head spinning
I don't know where to go from here

I don’t.

Just as you rush out of the some doors everyday, we rush into other things. It’s thrilling to run on adrenaline, living on the edge. Be careful, you might just topple off. Life feels like a quick game of Cranium, and you desperately roll the dice in hope of a purple. Choice – isn’t that what everyone craves? You want to choose – but are you? You stumble over your own feet trying to pick – but who’s picking? Feels like a plate of sushi just travelling along the conveyer belt, waiting for Fate to take its pick. Will it be your turn?

Someone once told me a story.

There was a businessman, who was rushing somewhere. He hopped onto the carriage, and told the driver to go as fast as he could. After awhile, the businessman realized that he was going in the wrong direction. He then asked the driver, “Do you know where we’re going?” The driver promptly answered, “No, dear sir. But I’m going really fast! As fast as I can!”

Before we reach, will we fizzle out like a bottle of coke which has been left out too long in the open? Will we lose our effervescence? Will you?

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend Somewhere along in the bitterness And I would have stayed up with you all night Had I known how to save a life

It’s never acute; it’s always chronic. Symptoms pop up all over the place, but dismissing them seems like the most popular solution. Until, they pull all the stops and seizures start. How much does it take for one to realise? Between the fear and blame, we grow apart. You go left, and I stay right. And sometimes, I wonder why I came.

How do you save a life?

Where do you find your mojo? Where, do you find that little piece of sky that’s yours? Where, do you find what’s worth fighting for?

When, all you can do is to eye your disastrously cluttered table, and marvel at your self-delusion? When a halfhearted scowl at the pet fish is all you can muster? When you’re hoping for brighter skies. When you’re fading into oblivion. When delirium sneaks into your thoughts. When all you want is to curl up on the sofa and sink into the cushions. When all you hear is silence.

Where do you find your mojo?

Humans are just like mealworms – we always gravitate towards the dark. When we were in primary school, we used to conduct experiments in a quadrant, exposing mealworms to sun and moisture. Many a times I wondered as a child why on earth would the mealworm want to stay in a dark and moist place? You never know what’s gonna come up from behind and bite your ass, nor are you ever going to see how brilliant the world is, because you are shrouded by darkness. In retrospect, the light isn’t always all good. It’s exhausting. Careful, you might just fritter away in the sun.

yingzi. says: anw. yu have a new blog! then the diary-x one? T___T was there a backup? yu better say YESH

Rng! says: yeah. there’s no backup. i’ve a new blog

.yingzi. says: OMG

Rng! says: hai. i was never really good at this letting go thing

.yingzi. says: noone expects you to. except maybe yourself

It takes just a few simplistic words to unravel the wildly complicated mind. I never really thought about it; and.. well. Maybe it’s time to stop. But I’m still driving. Driving at breakneck, and the world just whizzes past the window. But I’m driving!

I’m right. It’s one of those rare days where the sun’s warm enough for you to brave the blustery gale outside just so you can soak in the sun. Everyone seems to be out today, desperate for a little warmth. Strands of conversation are peppered with laughter, and I warm my fingers with my cup of latte. Your fingers trace the circle that’s the edge of your cup. Your pleasantries are impeccable, but your eyes betray you. When you’re done with your drink, I can tell you’re not ready to go. The swing of the door tells me I’m right.

Strings of epiphanies and discoveries have thrown an entirely new perspective onto me, and I can’t quite grasp it yet. All I know is, there’s an unusually instinctive urge to be fiercely protective. All I know is, I just want to hang on tight, but the blustering wind’s gaining strength. Hold on. Hold on tight. Many truths elude me now, and I cannot answer that anymore. Amidst the answers, I look for one that is true. Is there one? Is it the one? Are you the one? Am I the one? One – singular, solitary, unique. Would you call me on?

Mornings are particularly generous because they give you the opportunity to start again. Mornings are the best time for forgiveness, somehow. There’s something in the rays of the sun that makes my heart slightly larger than what it was the night before. It’s altogether rather marvellous. You’ve a wealth of time at your fingertips, and the feeling of self-content comes seeping through when you’re eating breakfast in the morning; you imagine all the possibly marvellous things which might happen throughout the day. Even if you’re half asleep, the feeling of being past a yesterday just puts you in a mood.

He’s blue today, with a brooding gaze and pout, hesitantly staring into space – unsure and strangely reticent. Most days he’s in a swirl of either blacks or whites, he’s either up or down, yes or no – if there’s anything, it’s laughter and mirth. I’m not here to save him – I’ve got too little in my life to add to hers – too little colour, too little truly good days. He grins as he walks up the steps, half expecting me to respond with a smile as brilliant as his, but I pretend not to notice. I don’t have enough to give.

One can never run away from ageing. It's just like the gradual yellowing of the pages; you never knew when it started and when it'll end. Before you know it, you're grousing about desserts being too saccharine, coffee being too sweet. Truth finally dawns upon you – you’re a workaholic. The sight of laptops everywhere, just like hand phones. You finally understand what the others mean by "Gosh, I didn't have time to do that essay" and you finally know that you'll not win this. Not this time anyway- you're too busy trying to find your way back to the route.

Have heart my dear

We're bound to be afraid

Even if it's just for a few days

Making up for all this mess

This verse speaks strangely to me – it's been a really long time since. It’s been quite a journey, but we’ve still got some ways to go. All I can say now is, I’ll be there for you, and come what may, we’ll pull through. I know it – I just know it. Hold on, and we’ll be okay. Hold on; we’ll have a shot at seeing our dreams come true. Hold on, for yourself. Hold on, for me.

I don't know what people are talking about; it must be a wonderful feeling to wake up next to the same person everyday. To make coffee for two. To book flight tickets for two people, to argue over where to go on holiday, and whose fault it is when dinner's burnt. And who should drive out and buy dinner instead. On what brand of cheese to get, and to get pissed off when they keep stepping on your shoes when you go shopping, or running the trolley into you. Accidentally on purpose. Most of all, just to be with you.

After so long of escaping, I’ve finally come down to this.. All along, I thought I knew, but now I don’t know anymore. I don’t know – how do I put this into words? That’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately, consciously or subconsciously. “How to say?” or “How do I put this?” I’m slowly loosening my grip on language, with neglect slowly but surely prising my fingers off. What I’ve feared has finally descended upon me. Now, I can only live vicariously through lyrics. But, question is, how? That’s the question. Life is a very tricky thing.

I can’t recall the last time I felt so messed up. It’s been such a long time since I felt so vexed; frustration’s going to crystallize any moment now. I feel like Little Mr Messy now. Not in the place to be, nor happy, or even the least bit grounded. It’s as if I’d suddenly lost sight of everything. Good intentions, without translating into a good outcome. Silence please, I wish to have this quiet time to myself. The bathroom might be a good place for this. Being unhappy should only be indulged in when alone. Especially in a bathtub.

I watch you guys, and it really tugs at my heartstrings. Your hearty camaraderie won’t last – and I don’t want to be the one responsible for turning you guys into cunning little scheming brats. I gaze intently as you struggle, and all I want to do is jump in front and scream, “Don’t worry! I’ll protect you from the big and scary world!” Tell me – who nowadays feel bad for tuning someone away? Much less an atheist. Tell me, who does anything by whim and fancy anymore? Much less a whole production. Tell me, will you ever stay this way?

Reminders. Tiny little life-saver stuff which rescue you when you’re an inch away from hot soup. That’s what mine did today – they brought back the reason why I came, and where I wanted to go; brought back memories of the past, and also with it the possibilities of our future. A future where I can finally declare that I’m not defined by anything, much less anyone. A future fueled by possibilities; fed by promise. Perhaps one day in retrospect, all these would be foolishly irrelevant, but today I’d like to believe that it matters. They matter. You matter. I matter.

Peace is a pleasant surprise. I found it in the past week, in the most unexpected place. I guess you can only find it after a blowup, an explosion- you’re expecting another apocalypse in the hangover, but find peace instead. You find it in a storm, or in a teacup, whichever suits you better. It’s somewhere; you’ve just got to look for it. Raise the carpet, rummage through the drawers – it’s your prerogative. I’ve got mine. I’ve just clicked defragment on my disk for life, and now all I’ve gotta do is be patient, and it'll come. It will, right?